Jingletown
by CallieJames
Summary: Leslie's life in Jingletown is turned upside down when Johnny decides to leave for The City.


He was the boy she shouldn't have loved.

She was the girl he shouldn't have noticed.

She pulled on her t-shirt, unaware of the hole he had torn in the hemline as he pulled it off her. He sat on the edge of her bed, smoking a cigarette he'd probably stolen from her pocket, lost in his own thoughts.

As usual.

They'd known each other since high school. Johnny was the school troublemaker, the guy you could always find behind the gym, smoking whatever his friends had gotten their hands on that week, drinking cheap beer out of paper bags, loudly rating their latest conquest. Leslie was...well, "good girl" wasn't the right phrase–at least in her mind–but she supposed if you were comparing her to Johnny, it was accurate enough.

She'd fallen for him the first moment he spoke to her.

It was nothing. She'd been leaving school, taking a shortcut across the football field, when he whistled.

She was the only one around, so she looked. He gestured, his hazel eyes red-rimmed and tired. He smelled like weed when she got close enough, and she coughed, which made him laugh at her. "Hey, you got a cigarette?"

His voice was smooth, clear despite the obvious. "Uh, no, I...don't smoke," she managed.

"That's too bad," he'd replied, eyeing her up and down, a smile on his lips, before turning back to his friends. The one with the shaggy brown hair hanging in his eyes, (Bill? Will? Something like that. He was in her algebra class–when he showed up,) said something she didn't hear but assumed was crude judging by Johnny's laugh; the taller, nameless blond boy with the soft blue eyes gave her a look that was almost sympathetic before he realized she was watching and looked away.

That night, she stole some of her older brother's cigarettes and kept them in her bag in case Johnny asked again.

They started sleeping together after Will moved in with Heather. Johnny was annoyed that he wasn't invited to their place more often, (Heather never liked him _that_ much,) and he looked for any way to pass the time.

Leslie always seemed to be in his line of sight.

She knew he didn't love her. But she could pretend he did. He was actually surprisingly gentle with her, stroking her hair and kissing her when she came, but once they were out of bed, he barely even acknowledged her except to occasionally bum a cigarette off of her. It was okay, though. She didn't mind deluding herself. She figured she couldn't really do a lot better, and he was cute and kind of nice (at least when they were alone) and she'd always had a thing for boys with clefts in their chins, so she definitely could have done worse.

Once she'd gotten her panties back on, she sat down behind him on the bed, curling her leg between them, her knee pressing into his back. She took the cigarette from his hand and took a long drag.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said, and she had the strangest feeling he wasn't really talking to her.

"You're...leaving?"

He turned his head slightly, the late afternoon sun glinting off his curly hair. He didn't take the cigarette back, instead lifting her fingers to his lips and letting her hold it as he inhaled. "Yeah. I need to get the fuck out of here." His voice was quiet, serious, intense. "Me and Tunny and Will, we're out. I don't belong in this shithole."

"But Johnny..." She could feel the hot tears behind her eyes and she cursed herself. _Don't cry. Don't you dare._

He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking her backwards with the force. "It's been fun, Les, but don't think it meant anything. You were just an easy fuck. You know that's what this was."

She knelt up, putting herself at eye level with him and hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek. "I...know. But I still don't want you to leave."

He shrugged her off. "I need to leave this behind. And you're a part of _this_." He gestured widely, his eyes blazing.

"I love you." She was surprised to hear her own voice in those words. "I fucking _love_ you, Johnny, and you're leaving me?" Leslie picked up his jeans and threw them at him. "Get out. Get the hell out of my house. I never want to see you again."

There was a look of what she wanted to believe was remorse on his face, but then he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You never will. Fuck this town, and fuck you!"

She threw herself back down on the bed and hid her face in the pillows, partially so she wouldn't have to see him and partially to hide the tears on her cheeks. When she heard the front door slam, she rolled onto her side and sobbed herself to sleep.

She went to the Greyhound station the next morning. Brian stayed with her, far away, but not so far that she couldn't see Johnny and Tunny waiting on line.

"Where's Will?" she wondered aloud.

"Didn't you hear?" Brian said, looking over at her. "He knocked Heather up. She told him this morning and wouldn't let him go."

Leslie felt a dull throb start in her temples. "Oh."

She hated Heather in that moment. Hated that she got to keep the man she loved. Hated that Heather wasn't the one standing here, watching him leave with no intent on ever thinking of her again. Brian must have sensed something was wrong, because he slung his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her lightly.

As the bus pulled out of the station, it passed by their little hiding spot. Johnny's eyes met hers, and for the briefest moment, he smiled. But before she could react, he seemed to remember and jerked his face away from the window.

She watched until they were out of sight, her heart like an anchor in her chest but her eyes dry.

She would always be the girl he shouldn't have noticed.

He would always be the boy she shouldn't have loved.

She just wished they never had.


End file.
